


Grant & Danvers

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: Smol Dragon Barry 'verse [10]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Baby dragons - Freeform, Cat's a Beautiful Boss Ass Bitch, Centaurs, Dragons, Fluff, Gen, Hatching, Kara's a Sweet Puppy Cinnamon Roll, POV Outsider, The Flaming Son, chosen family, so pretty much the norm but with dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6608278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With all these new eggs hatching in Central, other cities are curious about how they manage to gain and maintain such a high population. National City sends its best rider and handler, Cat Grant, and her newly bonded, super extraordinary dragon, to observe their latest set.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grant & Danvers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueStar1937](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueStar1937/gifts).



> You know what's great about dragons? YOU CAN HAVE MORE DRAGONS
> 
> Also, this will include those descriptions you guys are probably wondering about, i.e. what these dragons actually look like.
> 
> Note that this will switch between Cat and Kara's POVs.

The moment they come within sight of Central, even Cat has to admit she's impressed.

"Whoa!" Kara cries, "Look at the  _size_ of this place!"

Indeed, Central City's fortress is easily three times the size of National's meager structure. It's settled twenty miles from the city, situated right up against a mountain range that's dotted with manually dug caves. They overlook four pastures, the smallest of which measuring at about fifteen miles in width, each one flooded with dragons of all shapes and sizes. Surrounding these pastures are thick walls, the material of which Cat makes a note to ask about; they're painted a dull gray so as to not blind flyers with the reflecting light of the sun. Buildings build of the same material but painted with murals of great battles and other landscapes cluster near these pastures, ranging from a long building that's probably the humanoid mess hall to a stately spire where Cat has been told to land.

She directs Kara there. As soon as they've touched down, the dragon whips her head around in amazement, evidently trying to take in every sight at once.

A centaur walks out to meet them, ochre skin blending into a dark Friesian body. He actually wears a shirt, which Cat can appreciate, as most centaurs don't: a formal police blue button up with a glittering gold broach depicting a generic Western dragon about to take flight, signaling his status of authority.

He wears a welcoming smile; Cat reads a hint of nerves in his shifting hooves, but they're easily held up by a friendly professionalism. "Cat Grant and Kara Danvers?"

Kara starts. When she sees him, her jowls form a huge grin. "That's us!"

Cat holds out her hand. "You must be Director Joe West."

West nods. He gives a firm handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. I've heard a lot about you, Ms. Grant, and your extraordinary dragon."

Kara scratches behind her ear, bashful. Her delight seeps through their bond, warming Cat's gut. Cat straightens her shoulders and schools her expression.

"You run quite a fortress, Director," she says, "I hope your people are just as good."

West seems a little surprised at the bold statement. He recovers quickly. "And I hope you find them just as good."

"Kara needs refreshment after her long flight." This time it's Kara's affection that swirls between them. She still hasn't learned how to shield.

"I don't need much!" Kara rushes to assure West, "It was a light trip."

Cat feels an instinctual rush of pride as West looks surprised yet again. National City is certainly not close to Central; any other dragon would be ravenous. Kara, on the other hand, simply requests a pig and a small water trough. She'd usually take extras, but she's learning some etiquette at last.

As her dragon eats, Cat asks West outright, "When are they due to hatch?"

"Our best guess is late this afternoon."  _Perfect_. That gives them about four hours. "Would you like a tour in the meantime?"

Cat plasters on her most polite smile. "How generous of you."

Kara's humor colors the back of her head.

"Well, we might as well start here," West says, gesturing to the spire, "we call this the Spire. It's actually the staff building. Mail, meat orders, even competition organizations take place here..."

* * *

They're shown the Spire, the mess hall, the herdsmen's barns, the barracks, and the base of the caves. By the time they reach the feeding grounds, Kara is starry-eyed. National City's measly fortress is painted sickly green and has only the bare minimum number of barracks. There aren't any caves, despite the presence of mountains a few miles from it. Cat's often commented how out of place Kara's rich scales are there.

"Everyone's gathered at the hatchery," Joe says, "that's why there are so few out here."

So  _few_?

"Here are the adult feeding grounds. Mick Rory there, he's our biggest."

It's obvious which one is Mick Rory. Kara is pretty small for a dragon, but in National she at least looks average. Mick dwarfs her a hundred times over; quite literally, he stands at a massive one hundred and twenty feet to Kara's twenty, smallish eyes peering down at her with thinly veiled suspicion from a bulbous head. He looks kind of like a triceratops and a warthog had a love child—a thought that would make Kara laugh if she wasn't so intimidated by the razor sharp tusks, horns, and jutted frill.

He doesn't look to have scales; rather, they're so subtly shaped into his hide that it gives a jagged leathery appearance instead. The base is a light sandy brown, dotted with furious blisters and charcoal spots that look like ash. That charcoal shade also touches his massive talons, snout, and massive wrecking ball of a tail—no, really, there is a giant  _ball_ at the end of his tail. His wingspan, as it stretches, is  _enormous_.

As he brings his latest cow to the grounds, he gives it a quick roast with his flames. An amazing transformation swirls across him: virulent purples, reds, and oranges glow and spread like a fire licking along a trail of gasoline. When he's done, the colors fade back into the original brown.

A red-haired woman in a brown chiffon cardigan, green blouse, and dark riding pants approaches him, fixing her hair into a bun as her boots squish in the stubborn remnants of last night's rain. She's so  _tiny_ next to him, a butterfly on a towering oak. He greets her with a pleased rumble as he eats.

"His rider, Dr. Caitlin Snow," Joe provides.

"And his handler was Leonard Snart," Cat says. Kara feels the sharp prick of her predatory curiosity.

Leonard Snart is considered Cat's only peer when it comes to handling dragons. Where Cat started at the tender age of 10, Snart did so in the middle of a juvenile detention center at 14. Both of them were born with dragons; however, where Snart and his sister survived, Cat's sibling did not. Between Grant and Snart, new maneuvers and handling techniques have been created and followed as much as the traditional methods, if not more. And now, they'll finally meet face to face.

Snart now has a rare dragon too. Barry Allen is apparently no bigger than a vulture, but he is part of a newly discovered breed that people are calling the Speedforce Element. Only one other dragon belongs to this special breed, and that is—

A flash of red lightning, and suddenly a yellow aquiline raptor with red lightning from jowls to tail is devouring a pig. His antennae are short red lightning bolts with circular bases. There's a dusting of white around his eyes and talons. But, unlike many non-Earth Elements, he has no wings.

"Eobard Thawne," Joe says with a subtle eye roll, giving his silent opinion on the dragon, "he is one of our more...difficult cases. His rider is Jay Garrick, who is most likely in the hatchery."

Kara blinks. "Your riders and dragons separate?"

Joe actually looks confused. "Of course. Wouldn't want to get cabin fever. Is it different in National City?"

In National City, that's borderline illegal. Cat and Kara think it's why rider-bonds are so rare. But Cat replies, "It's discouraged."

The centaur makes a thoughtful noise. "Well, we've got about an hour left 'til the hatching. Would you like to see where we'll be?"

Kara tries not to show her eagerness. Of course Cat picks up on it.

"Is there a place where Kara can change?"

"Hatchery's got some places. Follow me."

* * *

The hatchery is a domed structure that leads into a warm, steamy underground alcove for the eggs. The ones with sires and dams have been gathered among the ones who were found abandoned in the field. Joe shows his guests to a little nook that's curtained off and leaves them to it.

Cat wraps Kara's human body in her long coat. "There you are, darling," she says, earning a quiet, bright smile. "I'm going to find Snart. Don't wander off; we don't need you getting into trouble."

Kara nods. She pulls on her white bra and...where are...?

Her face heats when instead of her own underwear, Cat's fancy silk panties reside in the bag. The bag she'd had strapped to her chest this  _entire time_. Biting her lip, Kara pulls them on, quickly covering them with a dark pencil skirt as if someone is going to catch her wearing them. Tucked into her skirt is a cream blouse with black polka dots.

Once she pulls her hair into a neat ponytail and her black-framed glasses, Kara steps into her heels and decides to leave her bag here for safe-keeping. It's not like anyone's going to snatch an empty bag.

Despite the heat, she walks out with Cat's coat draped over her shoulders. They've never been out of each other's sight since bonding. She feels a little guilty for being relieved, until Cat's own easy contentment registers through their bond. National could really benefit from treating their riders and dragons like intelligent creatures.

Oh. That sounds like a Cat thought.

Shaking it off, Kara ventures deeper into the alcove, bending slightly at the waist in the hopes to peek around the corners. She ends up in an enormous chamber that could easily fit five Micks comfortably. The rock walls have been smoothed over and painted with more murals, these of baby dragons in mid-flight (aw! They're so cute!).

The crowd is huge, but well-spaced. A few holes have been carved into the rock for ventilation, which explains the steam it had been emitting on the outside. Kara makes her way to the edge, clasping her hands in front of her as she takes a look around at the faces. Most dragons are in their original forms, looming over everyone else as they respectfully sit on their haunches to make extra room. Most of them are speaking in deep rumbling tones to the people around them, while others are silently staring at the rows of eggs all nestled in makeshift nests of soaked linens at the opposite end of the chamber from where Kara stands.

One staring dragon is at the edge of the crowd. Their scales are a glittering ebony, the faint fire from the overhead lights dancing almost gold across them. Their slightly rounded face is a stoic mask, posture ramrod straight, their wings folded perfectly against their body. Off-white spikes trailed from Their neatly sharpened tail-facing horns, diverting into two separate paths to touch the base of their wings. The webbing looks metallic, like hardened bronze; their curved shell tail has a similar effect.

They sense Kara's eyes. She quickly looks away before they turn, but they know anyway. Kara bites her lip as their head cranes down to her.

"I presume you're the visitor from National City?" comes a calm, professional tone.

Kara puts on her best apologetic smile. "Yes. I'm Kara Danvers of Cat Grant."

The dragon dips their head in polite acknowledgement, replying, "Harrison Wells of Cisco Ramon."

Kara starts. She's never seen his original form, but she's heard so many broadcastings. How could she not know—"Harrison Wells? Dr. Harrison Wells? It's an honor, sir!"

"Very flattering to know that my reputation reaches National. How are you enjoying Central, Ms. Danvers?"

Harrison Wells is making small talk with her. It's all Kara can do not to bounce on the balls of her feet.

"I think it's incredible," she replies, "the innovations you've done, the art, all of it. National City can learn a lot from Central."

"Very mature of you to say."  _Dr. Wells complimented her!_ Cat is trying so hard to control Kara's excitement. "One of my own eggs will be hatching this evening."

"Oh, yes! I heard!" Kara grins, "Are you excited, Dr. Wells?"

There's a definite paternal spark in his eye. "I can't complain, Ms. Danvers. My rider is also very eager to welcome them."

"I'm sure you will make a wonderful parent."

"Thank you." After a pause, Wells glances around and asks, "Where is your rider?"

Kara makes a flippant gesture, "Oh, y'know...she's around! She said she wanted to meet Leonard Snart."

"Ah, yes. That will certainly be an interesting meeting."

Judging by Cat's low-level frustration, Kara can assume that meeting hasn't happened yet. Hopefully once the crowd thins a little—a loud whistle.

Wells' head rears. "The eggs are hatching," he murmurs. Kara grins; he's already caught up in the moment. She can't wait to see him with his hatchling.

In the meantime, she peeks over the crowd as best she can. Courtesy forbids her from shifting into her original form; it's not proper for an unknown dragon to so blatantly intrude upon hatchlings. A nice gold dragon with a bronze underbelly finally takes pity and offers her back. From this new vantage point, Kara can see the rows of multi-colored eggs in their entirety. Her brooding instincts swell sweetly, only slightly mollified by Cat's mental strokes.

Wells' egg, pearl white with streaks of yellow and red, is instantly recognizable from the one picture distributed to the media. This is the one that begins to crack first. The hatchling inside does a chaotic job of it, evidently overeager to get themselves into the world. Shards fly everywhere, smashing against other eggs and a couple laughing peoples' legs. Wells is allowed through the crowd, along with a guy Kara can only assume is Cisco Ramon, since he's never been in any article or broadcast with his dragon directly.

Finally, a little white dragon with red finned spikes and a yellow underbelly bursts forth. Their red wings are attached to their arms, which they flap incessantly in the excitement of facing this new place.

Wells dips his head with a soothing rumble, gently nuzzling the tiny hatchling and earning a small hug and delighted cry of "Daaaaddyyy!"

The crowd practically swoons. Kara's hardly better off, hand over her heart and cooing nonsense.

The hatchling is a female, and Wells names her Jesse. Cisco is presented to her moments after the naming.

"Hey, Jesse," he croons, crouching down, "I'm your dad's rider, Cisco."

"Cisco," Jesse purrs, "hello, Cisco."

Without further ado, she latches onto his arm and works her way onto his shoulder. Thankfully he came prepared, having padded his arms and shoulders just in case.

Jesse pokes his hair with her snout. "You're soft," she announces, "and I'm hungry."

Kara is going to die from all this cute.

In an instant, the moment is shattered.

One of the eggs on the far end, a volcanic charcoal grey with a layered shell, explodes with a thunderous clap. What really alarms everyone, though, is the rasping fireball that is revealed. Through the flames is a muscled hatchling. They roll around in the compacted sand of the alcove, snarling and spitting more fire, but when that fails to accomplish whatever it is they want, they start to claw at  _themselves_.

A violent hatching. Kara's never seen one before. But the sight of it has Cat straightening in a determination that causes her dragon's talons to tease at her human fingernails. Evidently she's not the only one, for in the confusion of the screaming crowd, _two_ shapes are barreling towards the hatchling with quick, sure movements.

At the same time, these people grab something. With only a glance spared between them, Leonard Snart and Cat Grant tackle the hatchling with the dark fire blanket. Kara screeches, wings stabbing at her back. The gold harboring her stiffens.

It all gets worse when the hatchling, though extinguished, claws through the blanket to get at their rescuers. Copper blood clogs everyone's noses, human and draconic. Cat and Snart's faces remain impassive, but the clenching in their jaws is more than enough to spur their dragons into action, never mind the spiking pain in both their bonds.

Snart's dragons start to move, but it's Kara and a vulture-sized scarlet that reach them first, one in a blast of wind and the other in a flash of lightning. Cat and Snart slide side by side away from the hatchling, panting through the pain of their lacerations, their dragons keeping them pinned with strong human palms.

In perfect sync they breathe, "The hatchling—" and in perfect sync their dragons snap, "No!"

Fortunately for all of them, the blanket traps the hatchling long enough for Mick's gloved hands to grab them and shove them against his chest. In reaction to a similar inner flame, the hatchling makes a few more croaking growls before settling into exhausted trembles.

"Got 'em!" he calls. He seems surprised when the crowd behind him cheers; apparently he only wanted to let Snart know.

Cat's head lolls to the side. "Snart, I presume."

Snart gives a weak smirk. "Grant."

Kara tears through Cats ruined blouse, whining at the clogging blood. There's  _so much of it_ —a similar whine sounds from her left.

"Looks like we're in trouble," Snart slurs.

Both handlers scoff when their dragons shout, "Stop it!"

* * *

Kara retains her human form only because it lets her curl up next to Cat on the small cot. Barry, Snart's dragon, is the lucky duck who gets to cover Snart's abdomen and thighs with his scales. While she waits for Cat to wake, Kara distracts herself by admiring the infamous Barry Allen.

He's just as small as rumors say and just as red too. From the corners of his mouth to his tail are crackling streaks of yellow, exactly like the lightning that trails his speed. The likewise yellow of his wings' membranes attach directly to his body from where the red arms meet his shoulder to the tip of his rump, folded perfectly as he curls on his handler's body. His body is built for aerodynamics, with no spikes except for his lightning antennae with their circular bases and the lightning-shaped rattle at the end of his tail. His raptorish face is tense with worry, but his big green eyes are still adorable.

Now Kara sees why Eobard is known as Barry's Reverse; their colors are the exact opposite of each other but their features are almost identical save for a few angular differences. Where Barry is small and winged, Eobard is larger and wingless. She wonders if all Speedforce dragons are like that. Do they go in a pattern? The idea's amusing enough to help Kara relax a little.

Snart wakes first. His draconic blood probably hastens his recovery time. Although he's clearly not all there, he's at least conscious enough to put a hand on Barry's back. Barry's already up, talons cutting into the sheets on either side of Snart's hips.

Quiet. Kara senses a silent conversation. Telepathic bond?

Regardless, Barry gives a worried trill, to which Snart responds with a soft grunt. At length, the dragon cautiously crawls up his handler's side and starts removing the bandages.

As each bandage is removed, Kara gapes at the sickly green poison sizzling against the gashes. Their bubbling creates a nauseating miasma thick with iron, but Snart just sighs quietly in relief. Barry noses his cheek, trilling some more.

Kara stops paying attention after that, because Cat wakes up. She sags in relief when her rider grumbles about how lazy she is for not drawing the curtains despite night having fallen a couple hours ago.

"Well, Ms. Grant," she grins, nuzzling Cat's chin, "Snart isn't complaining."

She's rewarded with a haggard glare and a, "Did you at least make sure the hatchling didn't die, Kiera?"

"Mick Rory took him," Kara replies, "last time I checked, he was incubating him. Said something about 'needing more heat'."

"Hm. And what is that awful smell? It stinks like my mother's cooking."

Snart, now more aware, drawls, "So sorry your delicate nose can't handle a little poison."

Cat turns her head to meet his eyes. "I should have known it was a man. You're usually so unrefined."

"Says the woman who ran into the desert to handle a bunch of ferals."

"Am I supposed to be insulted by a repeated offender who threw himself at a crazed pyromaniac?"

Kara meets Barry's eyes. They share a confused look.

Because these...don't sound exactly like insults?

Snart replies, "I'm not the only one who 'throws myself' at fire."

"But you're the only one who reeks afterwards."

Are they—is this their way of expressing their respect for each other?

Oh great. Cat's finally met another sarcastic bite.

"Hi," Kara says to Barry, "I'm Kara Danvers."

"Barry Allen," Barry says, flapping his wing in a pseudo-wave.

"Do you want to check on the hatchling for them?" Kara asks. Since they're awake and definitely okay, she's pretty sure Cat and Snart can entertain each other while they're gone.

Barry flies to the window. "I'll see you outside!"

* * *

Kara happily stretches into her scales as she follows Barry to Mick Rory's cave, located near the top of the mountain. Apparently Mick's love of fire is dangerous to the grounds at large, so it's better that he's as far above them as possible.

Central's fort is well-illuminated in the dark thanks to high-standing streetlamps and lights dotting the fence posts. Kara's once again struck by how different it is from National. At home, whenever she and Cat need to stay at the fort for whatever reason, Kara has to guide Cat to the right building because the city doesn't want to waste electricity on lighting.

"Mick?" Barry calls, "Can we come in?"

When Mick grunts his assent, the two dragons land in the cave, their eyes adjusting to the torchlight inside. Beyond an antechamber is Mick's hoard of fire opals and the dragon himself curled on the biggest pile like a giant dino-cat. The ochre hatchling, with his burnt orange and red paws and snout, climbs onto Mick's tail to get a better look at them.

"Easy, kid," Mick rumbles, hindleg gently replacing the hatchling to his side, "get back to sleep."

"Is he okay?" Barry asks.

"Just wasn't incubated right. Sire died before his dam could do more than have 'im. Killed in a raid."

Kara bows her head. Raids were becoming more and more common. Barry murmurs, "Where is she now?"

Mick nods towards his cave's entrance, "Sick. Couldn't risk having her around him too much." A raw-throated trill. "Yeah, yeah, settle down."

As he busies himself with tearing a nearby cow into little strips with his teeth, his charge clambers onto his giant crossed talons. The little one is made all the more tiny next to Mick, nothing more than a single horse on a battlefield. The strips Mick offers are easily bigger than him, but he dives onto them with enthusiasm, using his young flames to roast the parts he eats.

Kara's heart warms as Mick hums, cleaning the splashing blood from the hatchling's scales with his tongue. If she didn't know that story, she would've thought Mick was the hatchling's sire instead.

"Does he have a name?" she asks.

"Calls himself Jax," Mick says. "His dam told us that his whole name's Jefferson Jackson. Stein's gonna come by later for her, tell 'er how he's doing."

At Kara's confused look, Barry elaborates, "Dr. Stein is one of our scientists. He studies physics and bioengineering mostly, but he's an expert on Fire Elements."

A new voice startles Barry and Kara: "Until he drops by, I'll be doing the check-ups." And Caitlin Snow walks through a human-sized archway in the wall, "Hey, Barry! Is Leonard okay?"

Barry shares a draconic grin with Kara. "He's made a new friend."

Mick snorts smoke. "'Course he did. Grant sounds like his type."

Kara snaps, "What's  _that_ supposed to mean?"

Caitlin smiles at her in sympathy. "Don't worry, Mick's just teasing you. He's behaved  _far_ too much like a good boy today; he needs something to balance him out." She ignores Mick's scowl. "But we haven't been introduced. I'm Dr. Caitlin Snow on Mick Rory, Fire Element."

Kara nods her head, "Kara Danvers, Hope Sigil, of Cat Grant."

Jax suddenly speaks up, voice wrecked from his violent hatching but still audible: "What 'm I?"

Mick replies, "What d'you think? You set yourself on fire."

"Can't everybody do that?"

"No, kid. No they can't."

Jax grins around his latest bite. " _Nice_."

Mick grunts and licks off another splatter of blood. "Eat your dinner."

"You're bossy."

"And you're annoying."

Central City residents have a strange way of showing affection.

"Whoa!" Jax exclaims, "She's colored like me! Are we related?"

Their colors are nothing alike, Jax being ochre brown with his orange and red markings, but Kara also has that dust of red on her snout, feet, and wings. Hers are just a different shade, closer to Barry's. The rest of her is blue, with glittering silver tips on her scales that shine like stars. Her wings, attached to her forelegs, are yellow like her underbelly, though her furry ruff is more like her human body's blonde hair. Across her chest, like an armor insignia, is her family's coat of arms, the  _S_ for Hope.

On Krypton, her appearance was quite common among the House of El. Here, she stands out like a sore thumb.

She swallows a fresh pang of homesickness and grins, saying, "Unfortunately we're not, Jax. But we could be, huh?"

Before Jax can reply, Barry rears onto his hindlegs with a yelp. When Caitlin demands what's wrong, he whines, "Len's trying to get out of bed!"

As soon as he finishes saying this, Kara's own consciousness snags on telltale aches. "Cat is too! Why does she always do this?"

"You too?" Barry asks as they run at the same brakeneck speed.

"Always!"

* * *

Both dragons arrive just in time to pin their stubborn companions to their beds.

"Barry," Snart says with an eye roll, "they're scarring over."

Barry points an irritated talon at the gashes. They're still bleeding, albeit sluggishly. "Those don't look like scars, Len."

Without missing a beat, Snart replies, "That's why I was getting up to patch them up."

Kara peers at Cat. "What is your excuse, Ms. Grant?"

Cat looks innocent, but she readily admits, "You were taking too long, as usual. Be a good wife and get me a latte."

Kara sighs. At least she sounds like her usual self. "Yes, Ms. Grant."

"You always boss her around?" Snart asks.

Barry flicks his temple. "You are literally no different."

Kara bumps Cat's hand for pets. "Barry, where do I get a latte?"

* * *

Cat visits Jax so she can order him to behave himself. Suitably intimidated, Jax gives her a meek nod.

Kara stands on her hindlegs so she can hug Barry's tiny body to her.

"Don't be strangers!" he chirps, slightly muffled by her scales. Kara giggles at the vibrations.

"We won't," Kara promises, "and maybe you can stop by too, hurry up the renovations we'll be pushing."

"With someone as annoyingly tenacious as Grant," Snart says, "we won't need to waste our breath on National's weak setup."

He and Cat share a firm handshake though, so that was... _probably_ a compliment?

Kara crouches so Cat can climb onto her back. 

Snart smirks, "Be seeing you."

* * *

As Kara flies away, Barry gingerly lands on Len's shoulders and asks, "Len, can dragons really marry their humans?"

Len huffs. "Barry."

"...that's for 'together' ones?"

"Yes."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but this was a bitch to get through. I hope it turned out alright.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
